


Take My Hand

by islandkate



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate/pseuds/islandkate
Summary: True love has a habit of coming back.
Relationships: Jim Hawkins/Ross Poldark
Kudos: 10
Collections: GatheringFiKi - 12 Days Of Christmas 2020





	Take My Hand

Ross sat brooding in the big bay window. He’d had the nightmare, again. All he could remember was a beautiful blond crying out to take his hand. That was followed by clouds and then white wings. The dream experience always left him feeling despondent and utterly alone.

Outside his window, the first snow of the winter had begun to fall. It was sure to be a white Christmas that year. He didn’t feel like celebrating, however. What was the point of kicking up his heels for a family oriented holiday when he was all on his own for the season.

His fat black cat, Seamus, insisted that he participate in life without regard to Ross’ desire to sulk. In an effort to be less morose, and because they were down to the last tin of Seamus’ favorite cat food, Ross bundled up in several layers, shoved a watch cap down over his ebony curls, and headed out into the snow.

The market was less than ten minutes from his front door. Having access to people and supplies, and the pub, had been the major point in favor of selling Nampara to his cousin Francis and moving himself into town. His solicitor had insisted on a contract that stipulated retention of fifty percent of mining rights. No one believed the old mines had anything left in them, so the matter was passed over as if it would never amount to anything.

Halfway down the high street, Ross passed the pub. He chuckled to himself about a joke he once heard, “Two Irishmen walk past a bar.”

Further on, in the church yard, a man in a navy peacoat was gleefully making a snow angel in the rapidly growing layer of white fluff. A duffle bag lay abandoned on the footpath. Blond hair curled out and around the edges of his knit seaman’s cap. 

Ross watched, transfixed, as the other man played. Only when the blond stopped, eyes closed, did Ross realize that he was holding his breath. His sharp intake of air caught the other’s attention. The blond’s eyes snapped open. His look of embarrassment at being caught in such a childish activity vanished immediately when he saw how handsome a gentleman had caught him. Impulsively, he reached out his closest arm for help getting up.

“Take my hand.”

Ross froze. ‘Take my hand.’ The blond. He knew that face. A tear slipped down his cheek. He lurched forward to grab the proffered hand before blondie could change his mind. He pulled him up and into a tight hug that made the world feel like it finally settled into place.

The blond laughed and returned the hug. “You okay, mate?”

The market was forgotten. They went to the pub and talked for hours. They sat next to a small Christmas tree decorated with acorn ornaments. When it came up, blondie, whose name turned out to be Jim, sent a lad to pick up cat food at the market.

Instead of the inn, Jim ended up staying at Ross’ house — in Ross’ big brass bed. He even convinced Ross to put up a fully decorated Christmas tree right at the foot of the bed and lighted candles in the windows.

On Christmas Eve, as they lay in bed, legs tangled together atop the white sheets, Ross told Jim about the nightmare. The nightmare that he had not had since they met. He was convinced that Jim was a special gift, one he didn’t deserve and one he would spend the rest of his life cherishing.

“Is that a proposal?” Jim asked.

“Yes,” Ross answered.

“My mother used to tell me that true love has a habit of coming back,” Jim said.

“Is that a yes?” Ross asked.

“Yes,” Jim answered.

Luckily, the ancient local justice of the peace was Ross’ godfather and they rousted him from Christmas dinner the next day to do the deed. His lady wife insisted that they stay afterward and Christmas dinner became a wedding feast.

Ross was never alone again.

A month later, tin was struck on Nampara and Ross became fabulously wealthy without needing to lift a finger. Jim took him on a cruise around the world.


End file.
